


Braving It

by withlightning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withlightning/pseuds/withlightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they first started doing this back in the day, Sam was sure it was a fluke. A way for an almighty archangel to take the edge off and for Sam to get a piece of blinding-white redemption.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Braving It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinkosicko (wtfishsticks)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtfishsticks/gifts).



> For Robbie -- Happy birthday, darling!
> 
> Beta by Bottledminx. Thanks to my cheerleaders, Elesteria and Chiasmus. You're all ~amazing.

The thing is, Sam and Dean being pawns at Heaven's mankind-vaporizing plan is kind of sucky. But not as sucky as Sam learning that, in fact, they're not pawns, but the queens – the most important pieces in the game. Before they knew it, there were angels trying to get rid of them and angels trying to look after them. Angels, angels everywhere. And the only people Sam and Dean could trust were each other.

All that changed when one insignificant angel decided he wasn't the hammer of God anymore, that maybe there was something fishy upstairs and that Team Free Will was the way to beat the odds – as if, as only if – and he made the move to rebel against everything he'd ever believed, against everything he'd ever known because of his belief in Dean and Sam. And that, there, that was something scary. It wasn't just Sam and Dean anymore, no – it was Sam and Dean and _the angels_ , since Castiel wasn't the only one to take a leap of faith. And that's where it got tricky.

 

* * *

When they first started doing this back in the day, Sam was sure it was a fluke. A way for an almighty archangel to take the edge off and for Sam to get a piece of blinding-white redemption. Which, thinking back, wasn't far off the mark — just, it grew to be something more, something strangely tangible. It grew to be something Sam started to look forward to, something that was only for him between all the monster-slaying and sneaky angels trying to bend him and his brother to their will. True that, with Gabriel as well, but Sam quickly learned that nothing was what it seemed when it came to Gabriel. Where he was capable of being irrational and downright malicious, he was also considerate and generous. For every angel-like trait there was an aspect of humanity. Spending a few centuries with humans could account to that, Sam thinks.

What started as truly terrible flirting and incredibly sexist remarks, ended up with Sam having his back against the wall getting his cock sucked like it was a matter of life and death. There was no ending there though, because that's where _they_ began. Sam isn't sure what _they_ are; he isn't one to label people or the relationships between them. All he knows is they fuck - quite often, too – and that’s pretty amazing all by itself. Sometimes Gabriel snaps his fingers after, and Sam finds himself in a nice, respectable hotel room with a big, fluffy bed and an endless supply of hot water instead of the crappy, bed-bug-bitten motel room he booked with Dean for the night. Sometimes Gabriel just looks at him, before and after, kind of sad or fondly — Sam hasn't been able to pin it down yet – and those times, when they fuck, Gabriel takes extra measures to ensure Sam gets off first. It always rattles Sam, the amount of gentleness and affection Gabriel isn't afraid to show at times.

Somewhere along the way Sam started thinking of Gabriel as _his_. It's a dangerous thought for someone like Sam with his kind of baggage and because, well, _angels_. But Sam thinks that after all he and Dean have been through — and everything they still have ahead of them – they might actually get a break once in a while. Sam thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might be Gabriel's, too.

 

* * *

_Oh god_ , Sam wants to say, _oh god, oh fuck_ , but being buried balls deep in the Messenger of God and bringing up his dad — and by extension his centuries worth of daddy issues — doesn't seem like a wise choice. And Sam likes to pretend the last few years have wisened him up. What he does instead is bite the juncture where Gabriel's throat meets his shoulder. Sinking his teeth into the soft skin he sucks hard, bruising and marking and Gabriel lets out a long, drawn-out moan and sinks down on Sam's cock with vigor.

Everything is _tight_ and _heat_ and Sam feels two sizes too big inside his own skin, and the way Gabriel moves, slow, oh so slow, the friction is maddening and not enough and fuck, Sam bites back a moan when Gabriel grinds back down and shudders in his lap.

In moments like these Sam wants to devour Gabriel, wants to consume him, wants to give him everything, even his consent to Lucifer – yes, yes, yes – but Gabriel never asks for anything. He just gives and takes and gives and Sam doesn't know what to do with that, what to do with everything that Gabriel is handing him on a silver platter, served face slack with pleasure and presence larger than life. _Trust_. It hits Sam suddenly, Gabriel trusts him, and the clarity of it shakes him to the core, makes him freeze because trust is remarkable, it's—

And Gabriel stills above him, legs tight around Sam's thighs, lands one palm sticky with sweat on Sam's cheek, surprisingly soft - and fuck, _of course_ Gabriel could read his mind, _fuck_ – and stares at Sam. Gabriel's eyes glow in a weird way, colors in multiple layers swirling, and Sam couldn't look away even if he wanted to. Galaxies, Sam thinks stupidly. Galaxies in Gabriel's eyes, thousands of tiny suns swirling in galaxies older than life, older than time and God. Gabriel is beautiful, he's so beautiful and ageless and Sam is so, _so_ out of his depth, here. Gabriel gives him a small, private smile, something Sam has seen only once or twice, aimed at him, and some vital part of Sam swells under his ribcage and he exhales slowly — because, fuck, galaxies and Gabriel and _tighthotblindingpleasure_ – and that's when Gabriel moves again, lifts himself slowly and Sam glides back in with a sound that might be a whimper.

When he opens his eyes again without even realizing he closed them in the first place, it's to see the galaxies still glowing and spinning and then Gabriel shudders once, twice, and his eyelids lower to half-mast, as if he feels too good to keep them open all the way, and Sam says, “Oh fuck, Gabriel, _Gabriel_ ,” and Gabriel lets out a long-drawn moan, lifts and sinks, lifts and sinks again and again.

The hand stays on the edge of his jaw, on his cheek, and he wants to kiss it, wants to turn his face into it, and he does, because he can. Gabriel shudders again at that, starts shaking in a way that makes Sam hold onto his hips harder, and Gabriel is incredible, he's magnificent and he feels so fucking exquisite and Sam wants to be inside him always, _needs_ Gabriel always, and Gabriel says, “Yeah, yeah.” Long gone is _kiddo_ and _Sammy_ and instead it's _Sam, Sam, Sam._

“I think I'm— I think—“ Sam says, delirious. He feels the pressure building, the tingling in the base of his spine and the way Gabriel fucks him is making him lose control, making his heart beat painfully fast, making him see sparks behind his eyes. He gulps in some air, says, “I'm gonna come, I can't—“

And Gabriel says, voice wrecked, “No, you won't.” He fucks himself harder on Sam's cock, says, “You won't.”

Sam bites his lip hard, quiets the scream trying to escape, because it's as if he's on fire, every nerve-ending on fire and God, he has to come, he has to, he can't hold on—

Gabriel starts to shake for good, these full-body shivers and Sam knows there are wings spreading out, filling the space around them. He opens his eyes again, sees Gabriel with his mouth open, head thrown back as he rides Sam relentlessly, drops of sweat running on his temples, down the skin of his throat and then, huge wings, black and sleek and _stunning_. Whenever Gabriel shows Sam his wings, it's like a punch to his stomach, always breath-taking and glorious and something his mind can't even comprehend.

Sam can barely think at all, all higher brain function being squeezed out of him rhythmically, but somehow his hands let go of Gabriel's hips and find themselves sinking into the cool, sleek feel of the wings. Gabriel cries out, goes wild and can't hold still at all. Sam cards his fingers meticulously along the feathers, the massive wings quivering under his touch. He grounds Gabriel by holding onto a fistful of the feathers and _tugs_ just right, just how he knows Gabriel likes it best and Gabriel's eyes snap open. He turns his gaze on Sam, face showing _everything_ , like he has no energy to hide a thing, like he couldn't hide anything even if his life were to depend on it. He lets Sam see it all.

In moments like these Gabriel looks vulnerable, tiny and so human it both exhilarates Sam and breaks his heart.

“You,” Sam manages, not even sure what he's trying to say. “I—“ he says, voice breaking and Gabriel stills, wings trembling harder under Sam's hands and he looks stricken, says, “I know,” and Sam makes an unrecognizable sound in his throat, tightens his hold of the feathers and thrusts up, cock sliding slickly in and out of Gabriel. The fire consumes him again, steady burn spreading into flames under his skin and fuck, he can't stop, he can't, oh god—

Then Gabriel whines and Sam can feel him coming, can see bursts of hot-white light behind his eyelids and fuck, the way Gabriel is squeezing him, painful and greedy, his muscles relentless makes Sam shout out something intangible as he lets go, breath hitching and heart trying to break through his chest as he holds onto Gabriel for all that he’s worth. The world fades away and it's only Gabriel around him, on top of him, Gabriel everywhere.

 

* * *

“I wouldn't do that, you know,” Gabriel says out of the blue sometime later. He's still sitting on Sam's lap, wings out and relaxed and Sam is sure they're slowly but steady getting themselves glued together by all the spunk between them, inside and out. He doesn't mind in the least.

“Hmm?” He asks stupidly, fingers petting lazily the ruffled feathers. He loves the feel of Gabriel's wings. It isn't because they resemble nothing of the wings drawn for angels in all the books Sam has ever read or skimmed through, no. It's because they're Gabriel's, they're dangerous and safe, all edges and soft shapes — just like Gabriel himself.

Gabriel hums under his breath, says, “I wouldn't do that.” His fingers land on Sam's damp hair and run through the strands. “Tell you to say yes,” he clarifies, voice oddly quiet. “Not anymore.”

Oh, Sam thinks. “Oh,” he says, lack of other replies. Because, really?

“Really,” Gabriel says, dryly now.

Sam hides his slowly spreading smile on the junction of Gabriel's throat and collar bone, says, “All right then.”

Gabriel stills. His wings perk up in suspicion. “Now, what does _that_ mean?”

Sam nuzzles Gabriel's throat. “It means _all right_ , Gabriel.”

“That's it?” Gabriel asks, incredulous, but his fingers continue the touching.

Sam nods, “That's it.” He suckles and kisses Gabriel's skin effortlessly, licks the salt away and blows gently on the wet skin. Gabriel's wings twitch.

Sam knows Gabriel is smirking, can hear the shape of it on his lips when he says, “All right.”

 

* * *

The thing is, they might not win this whole “paradise upon Earth” thing — to be honest, the chances for that are quite slim with two rogue angels, Dean who's already living hell upon Earth and Sam, the eternal demon child who will end up in Hell at one point or another — but at least they're going down fighting, guns blazing and with lightning.

And that's enough. It's all right.


End file.
